


Bitter Metal and Soft Breaths

by blackfin



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Pre-Relationship, Short, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 08:53:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20043271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackfin/pseuds/blackfin
Summary: Last thing he expected to see after getting home from a long day of skirmishing was Dimitri sitting slouched in his bedroom but that's only the beginning of an evening full of surprises.





	Bitter Metal and Soft Breaths

**Author's Note:**

> do i have a lot of stuff i should be doing rn? yep  
is that gonna stop me from writing all of the dimileth? nope  
also posted on my tumblr, blackfen!

The door was locked but that obviously didn’t stop Dimitri. Standing in the doorway, hand still on the knob, Byleth stared at the slouched figure sitting in one of the couple of chairs placed randomly about his bedroom. Well…that…that was certainly not what he was expecting to see after returning from another long day of skirmishing. It was both laughable and sad but when he first opened the door to see Dimitri, he thought, for just a moment, that he was witnessing a specter. Perhaps one of their foes, finally coming back to haunt him. Given towards Dimitri’s inclination to refer to himself as a ghost, that might have not been the best reaction to have. 

Thankfully, he just barely managed to suppress a yelp. Recovering quickly, Byleth stepped further into his room, quietly closing the door behind him. A quick glance behind showed that the lock didn’t seem to be broken. There must be a master key to this place or Dimitri really was a ghost and had slipped through the wood, unhindered by the laws of the tangible world. Byleth shook his head slightly - not about to go down that line of thought. He hardly let Dimitri get away with calling himself a ghost; no way he could start referring to him in such a way in his own head. 

Dimitri didn’t look up or acknowledge his presence in any way as he moved further into the room. It was a little uncomfortable, having him just be there, silent and unmoving, more statue than human. To label this situation as odd was an understatement. Things were hardly amiable between them anymore. Usually, any attempt to start a conversation with him was met with silence or a grumbled ‘go away’. Not that Byleth ever let that stop him. He talked, he prodded, he pushed - as gently as possible, of course - he forced Dimitri to take notice of him, hoping that by continuously interacting with him, there might be some kind of positive reaction. 

So far, nothing but this…Byleth sneakily glanced at Dimitri. Still staring at the floor. His broad chest slowly rose and fell with even breaths. The splash of yellow against his sunken cheeks only made it more apparent how pale he was. His hands lay limp in his lap. With a startled jolt, Byleth realized that his spear, something he was never seen without, was nowhere to be seen. His gaze quickly swept around the room. Nowhere! It could be under the bed or perhaps stored away somewhere but there was no reason for Dimitri to hide it. The tiniest, faintest, weakest buds of hope sparked to life inside his chest. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, Byleth opened his mouth to ask Dimitri what he was doing in his room then stopped before the syllables could get even remotely close to his tongue. 

No…no, that was wrong. That wasn’t the question he wanted to be asking. In fact, he didn’t need to be asking any questions right now. Tugging his shirt up over his head - it was a little awkward, having to undress in front of him but he doubted that Dimitri cared - Byleth thought for a moment then began to talk. He spoke in a low, quiet voice, making sure to keep his tone warm and smooth. He talked about the pregnant cat he’d found wandering the monastery and how excited he was for the kittens; he talked about how Ashe had to save a dish Mercedes was trying to make, laughingly commenting that you’d think after 5 years, she’d gotten better at cooking; he talked about the brightly colored fish he saw in the pond and how Alois scared it away by roaring like an injured bull when he saw it. 

He just talked, letting the words flow naturally, staying far away from battles, strategy, wars and killing. If Dimitri was paying any kind of attention to him, he didn’t show it. His face remained still, blank but Byleth kept talking, all through the purposefully drawn out process of getting undressed, retrieving his a fresh undershirt to wear to bed and tugging it over his head, putting his clothes away and washing his hands and face. Dimitri said not one word in response. He didn’t even lift his head. When his nightly routine was finally finished, Byleth lingered for a moment, unsure of what to do next. He was exhausted, his bed was calling his name but with Dimitri right there, was it really alright for him to just fall asleep?

His answer came for him when Dimitri slowly stood. Certain that he was leaving, his tongue aching to ask why he’d come here, saddened that nothing really had come of this but hopeful that, perhaps, the result just wasn’t visible yet, Byleth offered a small smile, “Good night, Dimitri.”

No response, not that he was expecting one. He waited a moment for Dimitri to get moving, wanting to, at least, see him off but nothing. Dimitri continued to stand there, staring at nothing in particular. Blinking slowly, Byleth turned and climbed up into bed. It felt incredibly rude to do so but something told him that this might be what Dimitri was waiting for. It was as he was sinking underneath the covers that his assumption was proved correct, though not quite in the way he expected. From behind him came the sound of shifting fabric, clinking metal and quiet shuffling. Confused, Byleth glanced over his shoulder. His eyes widened in surprise. 

Dimitri was undressing, methodically removing his armor and setting it aside. Mouth falling open a little, Byleth watched him for a few seconds until that empty blue gaze flickered over. Their eyes met. Byleth’s face flushed hotly. A soft hint of pink dusted Dimitri’s otherwise pale cheeks. Dimitri’s mouth turned down further into an annoyed frown. Looking away, his hair falling in a curtain around his face, he remained still, clutching the gauntlet he just removed. Ah, he didn’t want to be seen? Was that it? Rolling back over, his heart thudding wildly, Byleth lay still, listening to the sounds coming from behind him. What…what was going on here…? He…he didn’t get any of this. 

There was one more thump then silence. Unconsciously holding his breath, Byleth waited to see what inexplicable thing might happen next. He wanted to look but didn’t want to risk Dimitri getting spooked. The next few moments were torture. They stretched into a millennia, seeming to grow longer and longer with every breath. Then, finally, soft, padding footsteps. Byleth sensed, rather than saw Dimitri walk over to the bed. His heart was going to break his ribs at this point. Squeezing his eyes tightly closed, he couldn’t help but jump a little when he felt pressure on the edge of the bed. Without a word, Dimitri climbed up behind him, sliding underneath the covers. 

It was a tight squeeze - neither one of them were small by any definition of the word. Wriggling closer to the wall to give Dimitri as much room as possible, Byleth shivered when warm breath puffed against the back of his neck. Dimitri’s movements were tense and clumsy. His body was so tense, it felt like a wall of rock being pressed to his back. There didn’t seem any attempt to keep any distance between them. Dimiti plastered himself to Byleth, curling as close to his back as he could possibly get within the small confines of the bed. 

Forcing himself to relax, hoping it would encourage Dimitri to follow suit, Byleth slowed the pace of his breathing to a steady, even beat. The smell of worn metal, musky smoke and sweat surrounded him. Despite the stiffness of Dimitri’s body behind him, his own rapid heartbeat and the strange fluttering in his belly, he was oddly…comfortable. It was strange - he was practically kissing the wall, he was so close to it but he didn’t want to move. Both out of the fear that the slightest twitch would send Dimitri flying away like a startled animal and just because…this, he liked it. The closeness of Dimitri’s body, his scent, his warmth, the feel of his skin pressed to his own, he…he couldn’t get enough of it. 

“Do you want me to leave?” Dimitri suddenly murmured, his lips brushing against the back of his neck, sending a shiver racing down his spine. 

Byleth snorted, “If I wanted you to leave, I would’ve stopped you a long while ago.” He paused for a moment then asked, “Do you want to leave?”

“No.” Dimitri responded softly after a elongated pause. “I don’t.”

Byleth nodded, “Then get some sleep.”

“I don’t sleep.” Dimitri said, even though his voice was already beginning to slur slightly. 

“You will tonight.” Byleth replied encouragingly. When there came only a low hum in response, he took a risk, glancing over his shoulder. A fresh flood of heat poured into his cheeks. Close-! Dimitri’s face was so close-! When he turned around, their noses almost bumped together! Thank the Gods, Dimitri’s eye was closed so the embarrassment of meeting his gaze when they were so close was avoided. Letting out a slow breath, Byleth studied his face. Despite his insistence that he didn’t sleep, it was obvious he was already conked out. He couldn’t imagine that he had slept well at all these past few years. Judging from the dark bags underneath his eye, it felt safe to assume that his last good night’s rest was over five years ago. 

That needed to change. Byleth slowly, cautiously rolled over onto his side, carefully watching Dimitri’s slumbering face for any sign that he was waking up. All that came out of the movement was a slight shift, a barely noticeable tremble of his full lips and a soft inhale. Settling onto his side, Byleth hesitated for a moment then reached up to brush a lock of hair away from Dimitri’s forehead. Honestly, he didn’t know if he could do it. He didn’t know if he could help him heal but…by all the fucking Gods in this war torn land, he was going to do everything he could to try to lead him back into the light. 

Slipping forward, Byleth placed the lightest, gentlest kiss possible onto his smooth forehead and whispered, “Sleep well, Dimitri.”


End file.
